Fireworks
by JustVisitingUKgirl
Summary: A New Year's eve one-shot, set in their Seventh Year, during the Marauders' annual fireworks display.


It was after dinner and Lily sat against a window and waited for the fireworks. James had grabbed her aside on the way to lunch earlier and whispered to her. He knew she loved fireworks.

'Tonight, it's the annual Marauders fireworks display. Eleven in the Common Room. You will be there, won't you?' He had looked at her intently, the way he'd taken to looking at her this year. She'd answered truthfully; she couldn't have lied if she'd wanted to, with him looking right at her like that.

'Of course, I can't wait.'

He had smiled and pulled her back into the hall to catch up with their friends.

She marveled inwardly at how they could interact normally after years of somewhat strained communications. Who'd have thought that spending time with the James Potter would turn out to be like joking with an older brother, or the best friend you've known your whole life, or the older brother's best friend you've known your whole life and have those odd fuzzy feelings for… Rats. She pressed her forehead against the cold glass to calm the headache she could feel approaching, that same headache she felt whenever she attempted to define her ever-changing feelings for that irresponsible (alright that term wasn't strictly true anymore, what with him being a great Head Boy), irritating (ditto to that, the hours spent discussing 'Head Business' had somehow developed into intentional passing of time together) and unattractive (well, that was never really an issue) boy. Thought of the devil (that wasn't true either! Honestly, she couldn't think of him negatively at all. This was just a bit sad.) but at that moment James himself turned up beside her with a concerned look on his face.

'Lily? You probably ought to remove yourself from the glass. Sirius got his cheek stuck to our front door last December and, well, it's been a cold winter.' (Sigh. Considerate and he could set up fireworks. If only he came in other variations, preferably without attached History.)

'Lily?' Oops.

She detached herself from the window with minimal loss of forehead. 'My Hero.'

He smiled and ruffled the back of his hair, subconsciously, she realised, and somewhat adorably. She smiled back, and let him excuse himself.

And this was different too. She could imagine how the hair-ruffling scenario would have played out in previous years.

In First Year she might've giggled, as he would've probably have been combing some mud, or food, or both, from his long fringe, and there would be no ulterior motive in the movement.

In Second Year it would probably have been mud in his windswept hair, as he returned from a Quidditch session full of pride and awareness of his rising social stardom, and Lily's response may have been a little more breathy, a little less naïve.

By Third Year it would be indubitable that the action would be addressed at her, and accompanied with an, 'Alright, Evans,' that both thrilled and embarrassed her as she pretended she hadn't seen and heard his gestures.

A Fourth Year Hair Ruffle would be in front of a crowd, pre-assembled or spontaneous, immediately preceding some sort of proposition in the form of poetry/musical theatre/interpretive dance that Lily could not genuinely accept, and with her own increasing awareness of her position as growing teenage girl felt compelled to respond with some sort of teasing refusal, a crowd favourite being something like, 'Well in those leotards, Potter, it's hard for a girl to listen to what you're saying. Now put some clothes on and next time, do us a favour and get one size up.'

By Fifth Year the propositions had grown a little less teasing and a lot more frequent. A hair ruffle would probably send Lily over the edge of her tolerance and James would hardly be able to get out his full 'Willyougooutwithme' before her wroth was incurred. On one such occasion, the final of the year, which had doubtless been somehow recorded and told to millions, she had said she would rather date the Giant Squid than James, and this was effective in Shutting Him Up.

Sixth Year had held little eye contact and James' hair-ruffling was significantly less overt. It seemed to have been suppressed to the point of only occurring after a particularly hardcore Quidditch match, or on rainy days, and if Lily was around, and they happened to catch each other's gazes for an awkward moment, his hand would freeze, and slowly, slowly return to his side. The shift in motive for the Hair Ruffle seemed to signify an internal change James had undergone. He retained inner confidence, and a relaxed nature, but had obtained a degree of self-restraint, an awareness that his actions did indeed affect those of the younger students who admired his Quidditch skill and exciting personality.

By this year, Seventh Year, tensions between them had relaxed enough that he could ruffle his hair without fear of being verbally castrated. Initially it had seemed that without the obnoxiousness and arrogance that had been in James before, she had only businesslike efficiency when it came to Head Duties, and restrained-not-yet-relaxed conversation in those moments when they happened to be walking somewhere at the same time, or when their friends were chatting and they found themselves in each other's company.

But as it grew colder, and evenings were spent indoors, huddled near the Gryffindor fireplace, or sitting close enough in the Library that their knees just touched, as their breath merged visibly between them, these odd, Second-Year-like feelings began to heat up like a tickle in Lily's stomach, and she could not even consider objecting to the hair ruffle if it was committed in her presence.

And now, looking over to where he and Remus were double-checking the crates of fireworks, she began to consider the back of his head with curiosity as to how it would feel as one ran one's fingers through it, hypothetically. She leaned back against the window, feeling the cold condensation seep through to prickle at her back, and then he turned. It was across a crowded room, and their eyes truly met, and his eyes were intense and her stomach burned. Head Meetings degenerating to chat had been entertaining, and low-voiced study sessions where James had felt compelled to make Lily laugh silently until she squeaked had given Lily much to think about in her sleepless hours. But this, which according to all teenage opinions could undoubtedly be considered a Moment… Lily shivered. This was unexpected.

At that moment the first firework went off, a burst of white sparks. And so she sat on the windowsill and watched the fireworks. This would be her last year to enjoy them, and while they shocked her completely out of her head in her first year, she had grown to love them. The Marauders always structured these displays the same way, starting quietly with rockets, building up to fireworks shaped like flowers and farmyard animals, and spelling out messages (such as 'Happy New Year!', 'Have a Blast!', 'Alice, Frank thinks you're wonderful'). There was also a new set of explosions, heart shaped, but green, and tilted slightly, so that the shape might vaguely, maybe, represent a

'Lily.'

She straightened her head and looked straight into the face of James Potter. His sleeves were rolled up and there was a tiny smudge of sparkly soot on his temple. Lily's fingers itched to reach up and wipe it off, and maybe continue this path upwards, across his hairline, to mimic the movement which had come to matter so much to her. But first, she should probably respond, as James started to laugh to himself at the clearly absent expression on her face.

'Hello.'

'Do you like the fireworks?' His tone was casual, and he moved to stand next to her so as to watch the tiny sparkles which were now bouncing around the room, blowing trails of glittery dust across the upturned faces of the Gryffindors.

'I love them. But you know that, don't you.' She did not know where this light and teasing voice was coming from, but James smiled openly.

'I do know that, but I was thinking more about those specific ones, the new ones?'

Lily paused to watch a ball of sparks hit the window between them, just above where their shoulders were just barely touching, and ricochet off in the direction of the other Marauders, who were poised to set off the next round of fireworks, and the next.

'Were they supposed to be…' her voice trailed off. Would it be incredibly arrogant to assume those funny shaped sparks had been in her honour? Of course. It was quite possible that they were supposed to be… spores. Or something. It was incredibly difficult to imagine what else they could have been, especially with her stomach contracting involuntarily like that, and her pulse sounding not uncomfortably just next to her ears.

James shifted slightly, so that their shoulders were no longer in contact, and Lily noticed that although a jungle of fireworks had quite literally just begun exploding, and there was a monkey made wholly of sparks on the curtain hangings just beside him, his attention seemed to be entirely focused on her, and through his eyes she once again felt that bit more compelled to express exactly what she was thinking. Even though what this was she did not quite know.

'They were lilypads. But you knew that, didn't you.'

The teasing tone was in his voice now, and Lily realised that James' shift in position had served to bring their faces, if not shoulders, closer together.

'Yes.' She breathed, feeling, if not commanding her body to turn slightly, to face him.

They stood for some moments, both wondering exactly why that 'yes' had sounded a little more meaningful than their conversation had been to that point.

'James.' Lily broke the silence. Although the fireworks were still going, still resembling a sparkly Amazon complete with animal and bird noises, and Sirius had begun to give a nature talk, pointing out several creatures he clearly did not know the names of, so referred to a toucan, a cheetah and a koala as, 'the rare and beautiful kangaroo-tailed platypuff', Lily was aware that the sound of her own heartbeat might soon reach James' ears, which would of course indicate to him that she opposite-of-hated him a little more than she let on.

'James.' Lily tried again. 'That's a koala.'

'I know.'

'It's a marsupial.' Well this was interesting. Why on earth was she talking about koalas when she and James had just shared a Moment and she had just found out that he had introduced a whole segment of fireworks about her?

James nodded. 'It has interesting sleep patterns and really soft fur.'

And then Lily did something that was completely unexpected. She reached up, and dusted the soot from his forehead, and then her fingers, cool from leaning against the windowsill, drifted slowly through his hair, and came to rest at the soft part where the back of his neck joined to his head.

'Lily.' James' eyes flicked straight to hers, but not with the burning intensity of before. 'Lily, you know I…' Lily, still in awe of her extremely forward right arm, lifted her left arm slowly to rest on his shoulder, her left hand joining her right, exploring the softness of his hair. James moved closer to her.

'I've changed, Lily. I want you to know that. Not just a little bit. I mean, I've genuinely changed. For you.'

'No. You're still you. Just a bit more grown up. And we've both changed. And I think we've both just about reached that point where we've changed enough to be totally, completely compatible.' Lily ignored her un-ignorably racing heart, and moved a tiny bit closer to James.

James smiled, widely and absolutely, then leaned close enough that she could feel his words in her ear, making her shiver more than the cold glass pressing against her arm.

'Lily.' She almost laughed.

'Yes, James.'

'I can hear your heartbeat.'

She turned her face towards him.

The fireworks had reached a peak. The students in the Common Room were enthralled in the epic display, which seemed bigger and brighter than any of the previous years.

As James touched his lips to Lily's, she could hear the fireworks erupting around them, and she could feel the warmth of sparks falling near them, and of the excited crowds following the incredible display.

Lily loved fireworks.


End file.
